


Take My Hand (Sorry If It's Cold)

by 0neType



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Crushes, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Humour, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7385623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0neType/pseuds/0neType
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Papyrus is a tired twenty-something year old with the full responsibility of raising his kid brother. Life hasn't exactly been easy since his father died but he's got a roof over his head, several odd jobs and a brother who adores him so he guesses he can't really complain. Now if only his love life could get its shit together, things would be perfect.</p><p>Too bad things are never that easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Goodbye, Hello, Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have read this already [on my tumblr](http://0netype.tumblr.com/post/141469738617/goodbye-hello-goodbye) a while back--I decided to clean this up a little more and post it here as well. B')
> 
> Original prompt was this:  
> 
> 
> I've got Edgeberry in 5th grade but otherwise no changes.

“Have a good first day, okay?” Papyrus smiles, leaning down to kiss his brother goodbye.

Sans swerves out of the way and pouts, gripping his backpack tight, “Papyrus, stop!! You’re embarrassing me!”

“Oh?” He raises a brow, watches as his little brother rocks back and forth on his heels and yet, somehow _still_ manages to look suitably scolding.

“Yeah!” Sans wags a finger at him, “I’m in fifth grade, silly! I don’t _need_ goodbye kisses!”

He chuckles, “My apologies then.”

“You are forgiven!” Sans beams at him, excitement radiating off of him in waves. There’s the shout of another child calling his name from inside the classroom and he is instantly distracted. Sans turns around to babble back to his friend and Papyrus smiles at the display. His job done, he turns to leave.

He barely takes a step away when Sans grabs onto the sleeve of his hoodie, “Wait, Papy!!”

Papyrus looks back down at him, “Hmm?”

“I-I’m not to old for goodbye _hugs_ …” His brother looks down shyly and Papyrus feels his heart flood with warmth.

He crouches down, opens his arms wide, “C’mere, kid.”

Sans runs into his arms, wrapping his own around his older brother. Papyrus is only just adjusting his hold when Sans grips him tightly. For a moment, it’s nice. Then, it’s definitely, definitely _not_. In an instant, twin shocks pulse through him. Startled, Papyrus falls back onto his hands.

His brother backs away, splitting grin on his face and hands spread to show a joy buzzer held in each. He winks and sticks out his tongue, “Heheheh, geeettttttt dunked on, Papy!”

With a bounce and a wave, he runs back into his classroom, leaving his older brother shocked—quite literally—on the floor. Papyrus stares after him for a bit before he starts to laugh. Of _course_. He should’ve known better than to take his brother’s innocent expression at face value. He shakes his head fondly and makes to get up.

He’s just getting his balance when there’s a shout somewhere to his right.

“ **Fuck!** ” The voice cries out and Papyrus frowns deeply. He’s about to turn and remind this person where they are and what sort of language is appropriate in such a location when a blur rushes past him into the classroom, knocking him right back down. He’s a little dazed but, from his position on the floor, he looks to where he heard the shout and sees a man kneeling over in pain.

He’s not prepared when the man looks straight in his direction, eyes lit with anger.

“ _Papyrus!_ ” Papyrus jolts a little where he’s fallen, eyes wide and wondering how this guy knows his name, “Come back here you little shit!!”

… wait, what?

He hurriedly gets up off the floor as the man in the bulky, black jacket seems to recover. He makes his way purposefully towards the classroom, mumbling curses under his breath. Papyrus doesn’t think he seems exactly _kid friendly_ at the moment, so he stretches out a hand to block his path.

“Where do you think you’re going, buddy?”

The guy yelps in surprise, like he hadn’t even noticed Papyrus standing there. The top of his head barely reaches up to Papyrus’s chest, so he has to tilt his neck fairly far back to look up at him. From this position, Papyrus can see he’s more tired than angry. Really, his whole posture is more exhausted than anything else. He feels a pang of sympathy.

The guy snorts, “To see my brother, _asshole_. What’s it to you?”

 _Annnd_ there goes his sympathy.

He glares down at him, “Your brother in the fifth grade?”

“Yeah?”

“Is he the one you were calling a ‘little shit’, just a minute ago?”

He looks taken aback for a moment before his face slowly starts to flush. He looks away, “I—”

Papyrus keeps his tone cool and controlled, “Far be it from me to stick my nose in your parenting methods but, could you _at_ _least_ try not to scream vulgarities while standing in an elementary school?”

Now, from the looks of this guy, Papyrus expects a fight. A verbal one if not physical. He’s all tense postured and angry-eyed and generally has the air of someone you don’t want to mess with. So, it comes somewhat as a surprise when the dude visibly slumps in front of him, wincing in embarrassment.

“Y-yeah, of course,” He looks up again and Papyrus… kind of, maybe, feels his heart skip a beat at the expression on his face. It’s just that it's _soft_ and _apologetic_ and not at _all_ what he was expecting, “Sorry, that was… that was my bad.”

The absolute sincerity in his voice makes Papyrus the one who looks away this time. He scratches at the back of his head, face feeling a little warm. He lets the arm blocking his way drop, “It’s, uh. It’s okay. As long as you know, I guess.”

The guy nods, stares at the classroom door, “It’s fine. I’ll just talk to him after school… it’s not like it was even that big a deal, anyway.”

Despite himself, Papyrus is interested, “What happened? If you don’t mind my asking.”

He looks a little surprised to be asked. Then he looks embarrassed again and Papyrus _swears_ he can see him visibly start to sweat. His face starts to redden once more and he looks down at his feet, hands nervously playing with the hem of his jacket. It’s…

It’s almost, maybe, kind of cu—

He mumbles something under his breath but Papyrus doesn’t catch it, “Sorry, what?”

He’s only just _barely_ louder when he repeats himself, “I said… he, uh… he punched me in the dick.”

As it registers, Papyrus can feel himself start to shake and hears his laughter as it spills out of his mouth. The man in front of him is not amused, “Your brother seriously punched you in the dick? A _ten-year-old_ did that?”

“ _Shut the f_ —uhh—” Papyrus doesn’t know what’s funnier, the thing he just said or the face he’s making right now as he visibly _strains_ not to swear, “—h-heck up!”

“’Shut the heck up?’ Really?” Papyrus laughs harder, feels a twinge of something in his gut when the corners of the guy’s mouth twitch up a little in begrudged amusement, “But god, what did you even _do_ to deserve that level of retaliation?”

He sighs, looks a little dejected, “I tried to kiss him goodbye.”

“Ahh,” And Papyrus’s sympathy comes back in full force. He gets exactly how that feels, “He say he was too old for it?”

He rolls his eyes, “He _said_ whatever a fist to my dick is _supposed_ to say.”

Papyrus starts laughing anew at that and is pleased beyond all expectation when the guy starts laughing along with him.

“Kids.” He hums good-naturedly.

“Yeah.” His new acquaintance smiles.

They fall into a companionable silence and… it’s nice.

It’s really, _really_ nice.

Papyrus can’t remember the last time he hit it off with someone so quickly. And after such a rough start too.

“So,” He stretches the word, feels his breath catch a little as his new, not-yet-friend looks up at him with curiosity, “You guys new here? Snowdin’s a relatively tiny place and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.”

He nods, “We just moved from the Capital. My, uhh… my career took an unexpected turn, so…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, simply shrugs as if that completes his thought. Papyrus doesn’t push, “Well, if you ever need anything, I’d be happy to help.”

He gives him a weird look, “You barely know me.”

“Hey, any guy that can take a hit like that and get right back up is golden in my books,” he winks, smiles when the guy snorts and shakes his head with laughter, “No, but, seriously. I mean it. It’d do me some good to get out of my house more often anyways.”

“Well, thanks, I guess. I appreciate it, uhh…?”

“Papyrus.” He offers his name with a grin.

There’s a weird sort of glee that lights in him when he sees those eyes go wide, “D-did you say—? That’s my—”

“Your brother’s name, right?” Papyrus is smiling so wide he thinks his face might get stuck like this, but he tries his best to play the part and act like it’s no big deal, “Yeah, I heard. In any case, it’s good to meet you.”

And the reaction was worth the wait because when this guy laughs— _really_ laughs—it’s fucking _amazing_. The broad grin and mirth-filled eyes are a good look for him, Papyrus finds himself thinking. A _really_ good look. Laughter suits him well.

Papyrus is still sort of staring at him when he sticks out his hand, “The name’s Sans. And, uh, same.”

There’s still a smile on his face and, _god_ , Papyrus doesn’t know when it happened but he thinks maybe he wouldn’t mind looking at that expression on his face forever??

He shakes his outstretched hand, revels in the warmth of it when it's clasped against his own. He barely manages to string together a farewell as Sans tells him he needs to get back home. He waves a hand at the retreating black jacket and turns around to make his own way back. His heart is beating a little fast in his chest and he—

 _Wait_.

Wait, wait, **_wait_**.

Did he say his name was…?

… _huh_.

That…

… that might make things a little awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is gonna be prompt-based I think--it's light-hearted and happy and I don't think I'll be adding much outside what people ask me about it. So if there's something you want to see in this fic, please go ahead and either ask for it in the comments here or in my askbox on tumblr. B') ~~So far, there're three prompts filled for this and they'll all be posted here after some more editing.~~


	2. The Thing About Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter you've probably [already read](http://0netype.tumblr.com/post/142038824547/the-thing-about-friendship)\--from this prompt:  
>   
> Edits made for better flow, etc. but otherwise the same B'D

“So, why’d you transfer to this school?” One of his classmates asks.

“Why do  _you_  care?” Comes the brisk retort from the tall, angry, new kid who’d come storming into the classroom only moments ago.

Sans stops putting things away into his desk. He isn’t eavesdropping on the conversation  _exactly_ —he just happens to sit in a seat really close to where the new kid does. So, really, overhearing their conversation is unavoidable. And... if he leans a little closer, so what? It has absolutely _nothing_  to do with how curious he is about this dark-clothed kid with the mean-looking scar over his eye.

Seriously! It’s a  _total_  coincidence!

Another classmate shrugs, “Just curious, dude.”

The new kid gives a long pause. He sighs a little before he stares the person asking straight in the eye and intones flatly, “I killed someone.”

Silence follows his explanation. No one so much as blinks. Sans, however, goes a little slack-jawed.

After the initial shock wears off, the kids asking roll their eyes, “Fine, whatever.  _Don’t_  tell us then.”

They leave to join their friends and the mini-crowd that had gathered around the new kid disperses. A few of them whisper to each other while casting quick glances back his way. He hasn’t made a very good first impression but he doesn’t look particularly bothered by this. Sans considers him for a moment before getting out of his seat and taking the few short steps to his.

“Was it on purpose?” He asks.

The kid frowns up at him, scar pulling down as his brows scrunch, “Huh?”

“Did you do it on purpose?” He repeats.

There’s a look that flashes in his eyes that Sans has never seen before. It passes too quick for him to understand; too quick to even get a proper look at. Instead, when his expression settles, the new kid wears a countenance that is equal parts impressed and annoyed. Sans supposes it’s because he didn’t automatically assume he was lying.

“No.” He answers, short and to the point.

Sans beams at him, “Well, that’s great then! It wasn’t really your fault! So, you don’t have to feel bad about it!”

He snorts, rolls his eyes at Sans, “I  _don’t_  feel bad about it.”

“Wow, that quick? I should be a therapist!”

“Wha—? No– I–” the new kid sputters a bit and Sans has to bite back a laugh at his floundering, “I mean I  _never_  felt bad about it, you idiot! It’s not something I _just_ decided on right  _now_!”

“Yeah, I know,” he winks, rolling back and forth on his heels, “I was just trying to lighten the mood a bit.”

The new kid looks vaguely disgusted by this notion and Sans finds himself on the verge of laughing yet again. This guy is so _interesting_. It’s great! He definitely had the right idea approaching him despite the chilly vibes coming off of him. Sans is starting to hope that they can be friends.

“So,” he starts, leaning forward conspiratorially, “Did that happen on the same day you got your scar?”

There’s a sharp inhalation of breath from the boy in front of him. The easy pass of his words seems too sharp in contrast to his stiff reaction. The sudden tenseness in the air feels physically tangible, like ice water being poured over his head. Sans feels a chill run through him.

The new kid clenches his fists, speaks through gritted teeth to push out only a firm, “ ** _No_**.”

“O-oh... umm...”

Sans gets the feeling that, uh...

This is  _probably_  a sore subject.

He quickly changes it, “So, umm… h-how long ago did you arrive in Snowdin?”

The kid takes a second to calm himself, breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth. Sans gives him that time, doesn't say a word while he soothes his clearly frazzled nerves. When he responds, it’s with a shrug that comes across forced, “Around a week back, I guess.”

“Yeah?" Sans prompts, "And where’d you live before that?”

“The Capital.”

He slams his hands down,  _hard_ , on the kid’s desk, “WHAT?! _REALLY_ _??!_ ”

The new kid looks a little taken aback, “Uhh—”

“Did you ever meet Alphys the Almighty in person?!”

“W-who?”

“Alphys the Almighty!!” Sans can hardly contain his enthusiasm, “Come on, how can you _not_ know her?!! She’s only like  ** _the_**   _coolest_ , _most_   ** _amazing_**  wrestler this side of Ebott!!”

There's a slight widening of the kid's eyes and Sans takes an anticipatory breath. He's excited—clearly he's about to hear an exciting tale about his most favourite celebrity—but then new kid scoffs, “Don’t know an Alphys the... _‘Almighty’_ but..."

He smiles and Sans gaze lingers on his expression. It's a grin like he's never seen before; sharp and calculated. Pointed like a knife, "I  _doubt_  she’d hold up in a fight against Undyne the Unrelenting.”

He blinks, drags his gaze away from his mouth.

It takes a moment for the words to register.

He gasps aloud, “ _Excuse_  me?!”

The new kid grins, eyes discerning and smug, “Undyne could take her out in a minute flat.  _Guaranteed_.”

“No way," Sans insists, and the new kid leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest as if inviting further discussion. Mentally, he counts that as a win on the 'make-friends-with-the-mysterious-kid-with-the-scar' chart, "You’re clearly underestimating Alphys's ability! She's—!”

Sans is about to tell him off when their homeroom teacher walks in. There's a call for everyone to return to their seats and he slumps, giving his sort-of friend a forlorn look. He reluctantly turns to follow instructions and walks a few steps forward when he remembers something with a jolt. He turns back to the kid and slaps his hands down on his desk once more.

This time, the kid only  _slightly_  flinches—seems like he's a fast learner!

Good for him!

“I almost forgot to ask! What’s your name?” He gives his widest, most brilliant smile, “We can’t be friends if we don’t know what to call each other!!”

The kid eyes him over, seems a little wary before offering, “It’s, uh... it’s Papyrus.”

Sans doesn’t have a mirror but he's been told enough times about how expressive his face is that he can imagine just what it must look like right now. He doesn't bother to mask his surprise. He's shocked and thrilled and giddy because _whoa, what even are the **chances**??!_

“ _PAPYRUS_?  ** _Seriously_**??!”

The boy in question looks completely bewildered by his outburst. He gives the slowest of nods, eyebrows climbing up in question.

Sans is eager to share his excitement, “Papyrus is my older brother’s name too!!!”

“Oh. That's... nice.” Sans gives a startled laugh at his expression—every feature on the kid’s face says that he absolutely  _does **not**  _think this is nice at all.

He decides he likes this guy. He really does. He's never met someone quite so  _interesting_! New Papyrus is obviously a little rough around the edges but Sans is certain that it's nothing a few sleepovers and hangouts can't fix. It's tough being new after all—he's sure there's a lot more to this kid than he's willing to share right now and there's no reason why that should get in the way of them establishing a tentative acquaintance.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Papyrus!” He smiles again, half-turns towards his desk, “I’m Sans!”

That’s when his new friend has the most _fascinating_ reaction yet.

His eyes widen and his face goes slack, mouth falling open. It's the most open Sans has seen him, clear shock scrawled across his face. That in itself is funny enough on its own but, the  _true_  delight is in how it morphs just a second later. Papyrus’s lips twitch into a curling sneer and the scar over his eyelid twists up as he glares but it's immediately clear that it's just a cover-up for how exposed he was a second ago. Especially since he can't seem to keep his features schooled that way so his mouth keeps twitching in a way that manages to make him look more _horrified_ than _angry_.

Seriously though, who makes expressions that outlandish?! Sans is absolutely enamoured! This guy is a  _keeper_.

“Disgusting.” Papyrus mutters and, wow yeah, Sans would be offended? But he seems to be whispering it to himself, low and private, rather than directing it towards him, so he doesn't feel too badly about it.

On the other hand, he definitely _does_ want to ask what would provoke a reaction like that, but his question is cut short as the teacher calls out to him and tells him to take a seat. With a smile, a wave and a promise to talk more soon in his new friend’s direction, he does exactly that.

And if he feels someone’s gaze linger on his back before class officially starts a few minutes later, he thinks he can make a decent guess as to who’s it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave prompts for further chapters either here or [on my tumblr](http://0netype.tumblr.com/ask). B)


End file.
